Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
Elora
“Nervous?” Jarek asks as I grab his arm. I bite my tongue and nod. “If it eases your nerves, remember it’s just Sorin at the end of the aisle.” He laughs which makes me smile. It feels so good to do so.
Jarek walks me outside. I shiver against the damp air, but he tightens his grip on my arm, grounding me from the fleeing feeling I have gnawing in my gut.
Agnes waits at the end of the aisle of candles and flower petals. Evren and Tallulah stand, their hands clasped together. Then, I look at Sam and her smile gives me the last bit of confidence I need. She’s beaming in a long, silk emerald gown. She gestures for Jarek to sit and for me to step forward.
I wait until I’m directly in front of him to finally look up at Sorin. He’s in black pants and a long-sleeved, black shirt buttoned all the way up to the collar. His tanned forearms peek out from his rolled sleeves. His eyes widen as I step closer, his smile stretched across his face. I clasp my hand around his, mostly to stop the fidgeting he’s doing with his father’s ring, and when our hands connect, all of the nerves in my stomach disappear.
“You are…” He bends and places a kiss to the back of my hand. “Wow.”
My stomach erupts again. A new sense of nervousness weakens my knees. I grip his hands tighter to steady myself.
“Sorin Rudhek and Elora Leigh,” Agnes says, “I apologize I’m a bit rusty, but I’ll try my best.”
The breeze picks up, sending a flurry of pine needles and crisp, fallen leaves around us. Alaric and Ruse join my side and a soft brush of warmth runs down my spine, my magick alerting me that the puppies are here too.
“The heart of your heart and the soul of your soul, the two of you shall join together as one. Not only in this life, but all of those hereafter.” Agnes folds her hands in front of her. “Do you take each other as partners in this life? Vow to protect each other. Love each other. In the face of every hardship?”
“Without question.” Sorin squeezes my hand tighter.
“Without question,” I repeat back.
He grins widely, his full lips begging to be kissed, and lucky for me, Agnes says the word not a moment too soon. Sorin wraps one hand around the small of my back, his other weaving through my hair and then his lips are on mine. Soft and sweet and the most overwhelming sense of home washes over me.
“Sorin Rudhek and Elora Leigh,” Agnes says through a laugh, “your souls are now one. Bonded, for life.”
As everyone claps and cheers, my stomach somersaults again. But before I can panic at all the eyes on me, Sorin pulls me down the aisle.
“Where are we going?” I ask, but he doesn’t respond as he leads me back to the keep.
Singing and dancing sounds from behind me, but I whisper down my bond to the wolves to keep an eye out on the perimeter as Sorin and I slip inside a small closet.
He spins me so my back hits the wall as he kicks the door shut. There’s no window, the faintest light from the afternoon sun trickles under the door.
“Did you think you could wear something like that , and I wouldn’t whisk you away?” He kisses my neck, nipping at my earlobe.
“In a broom closet?” I ask.
He laughs against my skin, but before I can make more of an argument, his lips are on mine. I tilt my head back, so he kisses my neck, dragging his teeth along my skin, his hands pushing my dress farther up my thighs.
“Okay,” I say, my breaths giving away my need, “a broom closet it is.”
He laughs again before scooping me up and pinning me against the wall.
His fingers dig into my skin, his hips setting a bruising pace. There’s nothing soft about our bodies connecting this time. Sorin kisses and pushes into me at the same time, like we have no time to waste. It’s quick and desperate. My hands can’t grip him hard enough. His lips can’t kiss me fast enough.
My legs shake as they wrap around his waist. His fingers dig into the backs of my thighs, and every time I think I may fall, he pins me harder to the wall. Each slide of his tongue and nip from his teeth drives me closer to the edge and all the while, there in the very back of my mind, is the images from our dreams.
The storm and the forest and the yellow goldfinch. Sorin’s hand in mine.
Sorin stifles each of my moans with his lips, letting out a few of his own against my mouth, before we both find our release for the first time, together.
Panting, he places me back on my feet, kissing the tip of my nose. His arms bracket either side of my body and he cages me there against the wall for a moment. Our chests collide, still working tirelessly to catch up. He touches his forehead to mine in the briefest of moments before he steps back and straightens my dress.
“I rather like your hair down,” he says as he runs his fingers through my hair to smooth it. “Your hand?” He holds his hand out for me to grab. “I owe you a dance, wife.”
It’s nearing midday and dark clouds begin to litter the sky. Soon we’ll pile in the caravans and leave for the Onyx Guild. A small twinge of sadness crosses over me as I watch the trees dance in the wind. When Sorin is king, and I am queen, we’ll live in Valebridge. We’ll rule Teravie. We will not spend our days running through the forest, that part of our lives will close and the thought has my heart squeezing.
“I won’t ask where you’ve been,” Evren says, interrupting my thoughts, “but only that we’re happy to have you here.” He hands Sorin and I each a glass, and when I take a sip, I’m relieved it’s only water. “To Sorin and Elora.”
“To Sorin and Elora!” everyone shouts at the same time. Heat rises to my cheeks but Sorin’s hand at the small of my back grounds me.
We set our empty glasses down, and Sorin pulls me close for a dance under the pine trees. His face tucks into my shoulder, his mouth resting on my neck. We sway back and forth, no music between us other than the creaking pines and faint sound of thunder, and all I can think of is how perfect this is. How complete this moment feels, and for the first time in a long time, I allow myself to be happy. Without any guilt. Without any worry for the future.
Just happy.
“Mum!” Sam shouts from behind us. Sorin and I turn before he dashes forward, meeting Sam and Agnes on the ground just as the wolves let out a low growl.
What is it? I ask Ruse, but she doesn’t respond. She scurries to the pups, nudging them toward the keep.
As I join everyone surrounding Agnes, my stomach drops. Milky white replaces the honey tones of her eyes as they roll back.
“ They come in threes ,” Agnes mutters from Sorin’s clutches. “ Follow the path as the crow flies, there you’ll find —” Agnes’ eyes snap back to her honey color, her hands clawing at her chest. She gasps as her hands continue to claw at her chest, unable to catch her breath.
“Mum!” Sorin shouts, holding her head in his lap. “She can’t breathe,” he says, his eyes finding mine. Sam steps forward, hands trembling as Agnes gasps again.
Tallulah and the twins rush forward. Tallulah drops to her knees and begins digging in the small bag dangling from her hip. “Damnit!” she says, “I don’t have any Hawthorn-root. I’ll have to conjure it.”
“What’s it used for?” Sam asks, clutching onto Agnes’ hands.
Tallulah sits, stunned for a moment, just as I am frozen in place.
“I think it’s her heart,” Tallulah finally says.
Sorin leans to Agnes’ ear and whispers something I can’t make out. My chest tightens, my breathing shallow. Agnes’ hands fall to her sides, her body going slack. I force myself to move to Sorin’s side. Kneeling next to him, I wrap my arm around his shoulder.
“We’ve got you, Mum,” he whispers.
The wind rushes again, this time with a dampness that promises rain. Agnes grabs Sorin’s hand and then Sam’s and then, as quickly as it all happened, time slows.
“Here!” Tallulah shouts from behind us. The plant sits perched on her palm. “Hawthorn-root.” Her dark hair sticks to her face. She catches my eye for a moment, but doesn’t wait before shoving the herb into Agnes’ mouth, forcing her jaw to work in chewing motions.
A few moments of tense silence settle over us, all eyes fixed on Agnes.
“Come on,” Tallulah whispers, her hands clasped to her chest. As if she herself is responsible for Agnes’ life.
A heartbeat later, Agnes gasps again, eyes wide and alight.
“Mum.” Sam strokes her cheek. “You’re okay?”
Agnes remains silent, but her face softens, her hand drawing soft circles over her chest. Sorin’s shoulders remain tense, his face focused on his mother, but a shift in the air has my attention drawing to the wolves.
All six of them have their haunches raised, low growls pulsing from their throats.
Another clap of thunder booms in the distance.
“We need to go.” I squeeze Sorin’s shoulders but he doesn’t move. “We can’t delay our trip to the Onyx Guild any longer.”
No one moves.
“Sorin…” I squeeze his shoulders again.
“Elora is right,” Evren says to Sam and Tallulah. “We’ll help Agnes inside to wait while you ready the caravans.”
Sorin stands on shaky legs, and Sam does as well. She joins Letty and Eviey to make the final preparations for our departure.
“What is it that they sense?” Evren nods to the wolves. He lifts Agnes slowly, Jarek holding onto her arms. Sorin reaches for her, but she swats him away.
“I’m fine,” she whispers, but the color in her face drops, and I don’t miss the wince as she takes a slow step forward.
I glance back to the wolves and reach out to them again, but none of them respond, their gazes fixed on the woods that line the Jade Guild.
“I’m not sure what they sense,” I admit. “But whatever it is, we need to prepare ourselves.”
“This morning on my walk I felt like I was being watched,” Sorin says.
I spin to face him.
“And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” Evren asks, a bite in his tone that doesn’t go unnoticed. Sorin and Evren face each other, deep lines forming between their brows.
“It could be anyone,” Tallulah says. “It could also be no one. Storms have a tendency to bring new life to the forest, perhaps the wolves only sense that change?”
A swift breeze rustles the flowers in my hair, sending a chill over my exposed back. “We’ll discuss this inside.” I turn for the Jade Guild, not bothering to check if anyone’s followed.
I know what I have to do.
Despite all of us being huddled in the meeting room, it’s quiet. Not a pin drop, not a gust of wind through the cracks. Unusually, painfully quiet as if the storm has melted away. My stomach churns as I reach out to the wolves.
What do you see?
There is someone approaching, Alaric says.
How many?
Can’t tell.
Keep yourselves hidden for now.
“ The wolves sense someone approaching the keep,” I tell the group.
Their eyes all land on me at once, sending a fit of doubt straight to my stomach. I clench my fists at my sides and try to remember that I am among friends.
Galen was your friend.
“The caravan is ready,” I say, cutting off the voices in my head. “You must hurry, we can no longer wait for nightfall.”
“If it’s Galen,” Sorin says, “I should be the one to go.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ll go.”
“Absolutely not,” Sorin grabs my arm and it’s only then I remember I’m in a gown.
“Well of course I’ll change first.” My attempt at humor goes unnoticed, Sorin’s gaze bouncing between me and Agnes. She’s curled up in a chair with a blanket across her legs. “The Stones are already packed. They must travel with Agnes. She can’t let them out of her?—”
“Elora.” Sorin’s voice is stern. Deep. “You’re not going alone. Don’t even suggest such a thing.”
“You have all spent the last few years protecting everyone around you. And we have”—I gesture to Sam and Tallulah—“have spent it hiding and silencing magick under the guise that it wasn’t our own to use.”
Sorin’s grip loosens around my arm.
I lean in close so only he can hear me. “I’m tired of running, Sorin. Tired of being afraid. Tired of being told what I can and cannot do.”
He flinches, moving his arm from me entirely.
“Get your mother and sister to safety. Get the Stones as far away from here as possible.” I slide my hand into his. “Let me do this.”
His brows pinch together, but I turn and slip out of the room without looking back.
After changing into my breeches, tunic, and cloak I’m teeming with anticipation to meet the wolves.
So far, we only see one.
Keep an eye on him.
Alaric responds with a huff of approval.
“Just wait.” Sorin grabs my arm as I turn for the bedroom door. “Please.”
The unease in his tone makes my stomach knot but there isn’t time to overthink what we do next. “I’m sorry about cutting the wedding short.” I lean into his touch. “Perhaps there will be time later?—”
“Come with us,” he says. “Let Thomas and Henry go in your stead. If the wolves join them, they can tell you what they see.”
My chest aches. The last thing I want to do right now is leave him. Especially with Agnes and her health.
“I have no doubt Thomas and Henry are wonderful swordsmen,” I say. “But they aren’t me.” They don’t possess a magick that’s far more destructive than any blade.
“And what is your plan should you run head first into Galen and his men?” His face twists a bit as I pull away, so I grab his hand. I bite my tongue so as not to tell him that is my exact hope.
“He put me through unimaginable things, Sorin.” I relax my shoulders. His dark eyes scour my face, but I try my best to feign as much confidence as I can to not worry him further.
“He hurt you,” I say, “but he destroyed me. In so many ways.”
Sorin stiffens under my touch.
“You wish to kill him.” He sighs before pressing the heel of his palms to his eyes. How many nights did he also lay awake, wondering if we’d see each other again? I may have been the one in a dungeon, but there are plenty of other ways to be caged.
“And what if I say yes?” My voice trembles. “What if that is exactly what I wish to do?”
His grip around my arm tightens so I shift closer, pressing my free hand to the side of his cheek. He kisses my forehead. “Then I’ll only be sad to miss it.”
“It isn’t like last time,” I whisper, knowing he’ll know exactly what I mean. Not like the time I traversed down a ditch to save Ruse.
“I’ll go with her,” Jarek says from the doorway, his boots creaking the floorboards beneath him. Sorin’s eyes are still on me when I turn to Jarek and nod.
“It should be me going.” Sorin kisses my knuckles.
“You need to get everyone ready to leave,” I say. “Sam needs you. Agnes needs you.” I bite my lip. “You all need each other. If what the wolves saw is true, if someone is coming, we’ll need to be quick. Jarek and I will go. You and Samaria get everyone to safety. The Guild members are waiting for you at Onyx. You don’t have time to stall, and we absolutely can’t risk you being hurt.”
He clenches his fists. “I feel useless.”
I step onto my toes and kiss his cheek. “You are so much more important than you realize,” I whisper. “Everything hinges on this meeting, Sorin. Everything .”
He attempts a smile, but it comes out forced and broken.
“Sam and Tallulah will be able to help you, if needed. Plus, Ruse and the pups will go with you, that way I can be in communication with them.”
I cradle his face with my hands. “I’ll be fine, don’t be such a worry,” I say as playfully as I can muster. Playfully enough that perhaps I can trick even myself into believing the words. I kiss him deeply, ignoring the fact that Jarek is still in the room. His mouth presses into mine, his body relaxing within my touch.
When we finally pull away, my cheeks heat as Jarek clears his throat. “So…” I turn to him just as he’s piling his hair into a knot on the top of his head. “We ready, susi?”
“Ready.” I give Sorin’s hand a final squeeze.
“The moment you scope out the hunters?—”
“I know.” I cut Sorin off with another quick kiss.
“And if anything feels out of place?—”
“Sorin,” I say again, following Jarek out the door. “We’ll be right behind you.”
He closes the distance between us again, his mouth meeting mine with an intensity that has me doubting my decision to part from him. Something cold and smooth slips onto my finger, so I break apart our kiss. Raising my hand, I place it against his chest to admire how his father’s ring looks on me.
“I can’t take this.” I begin to pull it off when his hand wraps around mine, stopping me.
“You can and you will.” He kisses my knuckles. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I give him one more quick kiss, right on his dimple, then I’m out the door.
Dread snakes down my spine as the door clicks shut behind me. Nerves and anxiousness battle with each other but there’s something else happening within me that I can’t explain. I don’t let the feeling linger as I reach out to Alaric through our bond and follow Jarek outside the keep.
Jarek, Alaric, and I tread lightly through the forest to the outermost part of the ward where the wolves sensed someone earlier. Though, we’ve been walking for over an hour with no intruders in sight. I rub my hands over my arms, the dampness starting to chill my bones.
It’s quiet , Alaric says.
My head cocks to the side, and when I realize he’s right, I stop and close my eyes. No birdsong. No creaking tree limbs or owls. No wind. Just as it was quiet inside the keep, it’s somehow more so outside. I lived in the forest long enough to know that when the trees and animals quit stirring, it is never a good thing.
“Jarek,” I whisper.
He turns, unfastening his ax as he does.
I bring my finger to my lips, indicating not to make a sound. Not a breeze through the trees or the crunch of branches. The rain has even ceased, leaving the forest a blanket of gray.
He glances around us, at the otherworldly stillness of it all. His ax molds to his hand, eyes set on an invisible target. Magick itches at my palms but I push forward with Jarek and Alaric in my tow.
My breath hitches as we breach over a mossy hill and there?—
My eyes blow wide as I grip Jarek’s arm and turn him. He must see the same thing I do, because in an instant, his body tenses under my touch. Alaric growls, low and deep as dozens of hunters turn in our direction.
“Why aren’t they making any noise?” Jarek asks as we both crouch behind a fallen tree.
Shaking my head, I ignore how my hands slightly tremble as I run them down my face. “I don’t know.”
“We have to run,” Jarek says. While I don’t disagree, I also don’t want to lead them directly to the Jade Guild.
Have you left yet? I ask Ruse.
Soon.
“We can’t let them go to the Jade Guild,” I say, keeping my voice as low as possible though with the eerie quiet still plaguing the forest it sounds as if I’m shouting. “Sorin and the others haven’t left.”
“Fuck,” Jarek grumbles. “Your husband is stubborn.”
“And Sam isn’t?”
He grumbles something in Scandavi, but it sounds like agreement.
I peek over the fallen log. The men remain deathly silent as they approach, their black boots stomping over dried leaves and twigs but not a sound to be heard. It’s as if they’re under some sort of protection. Some sort of spell.
Galen.
My stomach dips.
“So, we fight, then.” Jarek bumps my shoulder as I crouch back down and glance at him. His eyes are uncertain but there’s a small flicker of heat in them, like chips of ice so cold they burn. He, like me, is tired of running.
Hiding.
Get everyone to leave now, Ruse. In any way you can.
Her concern is thick and heady through our bond, her magick swimming with mine like pools of midnight. Ready to catch me. To guide me should I need it.
I turn to Jarek with a fresh shard of confidence. “We fight.”
We give ourselves another minute before I take a steadying breath and move from behind the tree. A man catches my eye from the army line and like a cork being popped, all the sounds of the forest come rushing forward. The shrill of dozens of men screaming and shouting. Metal clinking and arrows flying. My eyes go wide, my fingers freezing at my sides.
“Come on, susi,” Jarek says. “Give them fucking hell.”
Several arrows blow past us, whizzing and whipping through the air as we run forward, stopping every few paces to duck behind a large pine. Jarek dodges them with ease, his eyes set on the archers at the front line. My eyes dart past the line of soldiers and guards, straight to the line of horses poised in the back. Officers or generals. Or perhaps, traitors .
“Stay behind me,” I shout at Jarek over my shoulder, but either he doesn’t listen or doesn’t hear as his body brushes my side.
The men are still several yards away, but I don’t wait a moment longer to flick my wrists, pulling up the dirt at their feet, creating a massive hill of earth and rocks and moss. Most of the men tumble, shouting and toppling on top of each other.
Then, I’m running.
But this time, I’m not running from the fight.
I’m running straight toward it.
Alaric is at my side, his magick intertwining with mine, wrapping itself around my soul like a tether between this world and the next.
Jarek grunts as an arrow brushes between us, but we don’t slow. We keep pushing forward. Using my magick, I swipe at the ground like second nature, clearing roots and rocks from our path. The men are close enough now that their shouts become clear. All it does is fuel the simmering rage on my fingertips.
“Remember not to kill her,” one shouts.
“The boss needs her alive!”
“Contain her hands!” The panicked undertone of their voices snap something inside of me and I am finally not afraid. Not afraid of these men. Not afraid of my magick or using it. Not afraid of being the last Dyrsjel. My chest puffs out as I swipe a large branch out of our path.
Stay out of the line of arrows , I say to Alaric as we reach the final few feet between us and the men.
Alaric ignores me and goes for the first archer's calf, bringing him to his knees and eventually his death.
Jarek’s blade collides with another archer's throat. His bloody scream is quickly drowned out by gagging as I strip the air from the lungs of another two others. They drop to their knees, bodies flailing like a fish from water. Another two rush me, this time their short swords drawn but they’re not quick enough. Raising my hands, I do the same as I did before. I reach into their lungs, stealing their air and gifting it back to Mother Gaia. Back to the soil and the trees and the wind.
See me, Mother.
Metal clashes behind me and Jarek shouts. Turning, I see he’s been hit in the leg with an arrow. Alaric beats me to his side, his teeth around the throat of Jarek’s assaulter. The blood on Jarek’s leg ignites a fire in me, but at first glance, it looks like it isn’t a fatal hit. My palms heat as I spin and face what’s left of the men.
Alaric’s magick pushes mine forward, giving it the extra strength it needs to do what must be done. My chest heaves as more bodies topple over the hill I’ve created, and the longer I look, the more my stomach sinks.
The next line of archers raises their arrows, and this time they’re tipped in fire. Just as those that burnt Loxley. As the first blazing arrow glides through the air, every single person I love flashes through my mind.
My mother.
Agnes.
The twins.
Jarek.
Samaria.
The wolves.
Sorin.
My hands are steady as I raise them before me.
The first flame-tipped arrow dips down as though it will drop right before my feet. I don’t give it a chance before I flick my wrists up, catching the fire with my magick, suspending it in the air like an orb. Using my opposite hand, I let the wind flow through my fingers. I open my mouth, and I fill my lungs with it. Then, my stomach. As much as I can possibly fill myself with, then I push it all forward until it hits the flames.
Heat and light explode around us, singeing the hair on my arms as I use all my energy to push the fire away from Jarek, Alaric, and I and toward the line of men. My hands shake and sweat beads across my forehead and upper lip and then everything explodes.
Screams are engulfed by the flames, ripping and roaring through the forest until my knees give out and I drop to the ground. Trees groan and crack under the heat of the fire, smoke plumes from each direction.
Faintly, I can hear Jarek calling for me, but the buzzing in my head is louder than his voice.
My chest hollows out as another tree falls, embers sizzling the pines and marring the bark.
As the heat dwindles and the screams fade, the smoke settles around the scorched forest. I swallow my tears. The men that once stood are now reduced to nothing but soot and ash and right in the center of destruction lands a tiny yellow bird.
A goldfinch.
My hands are blazing as I cover my eyes, unable to stomach the destruction I’ve caused. The people I’ve…
I killed them all.
You did what you had to do, Alaric says.
But the forest.
It will regrow, susi.
A noise amidst the eerie crackling of trees burning draws my attention.
“Jarek?” I call out, but through the black smoke I can’t see him.
“Elora.” The name settles over me, freezing my scorching hot skin. My eyes snap open as I suck in a sharp breath. It’s not Jarek’s voice, and he isn’t the figure that steps through the smoke.
Galen.
I’m on my feet in an instant, my hands ready to burn him as well when a wave of nausea roils through me, bending me at my middle.
“I’ll admit, it took longer than I anticipated to find you.” Galen steps closer, that coil of sickness pushing up my throat. He dusts a bit of fallen ash off of his shoulder, the movement opening his shirt just enough for me to get a glimpse at a purple stone that hangs from his neck.
“Elora!” Jarek’s voice steadies me. I can’t see him through the smoke, but he sounds close.
Alaric is even closer, the pulse of his magick bolsters my spine. Galen’s boots crunch over fallen branches as he takes a step closer. My hands go up again, but all he does is smile.
“Go ahead,” he says. “Use it just like I taught you.”
My hands tremble as I call my magick, it burns through my veins seeking justice of its own.
I drop my hands to my sides. “No.”
I rush him, my movements quick against the pillowy soot that now coats the forest floor. I close my hand around his neck, pushing his back against a tree. He has the audacity to smile so I clench my fist tighter until he gasps. “I’d rather feel it with my hands when you take your last breath.”
He wriggles beneath my grip, his blue eyes turning red. My nails dig deeper, my face pressed close to his.
“What a waste,” he whispers, strained and broken.
I push harder, and use my other hand to use my magick. It spools up my arms, ready to finish the job when Galen’s head collides with my nose.
I recoil away, instinctively clutching my nose where blood begins to pour. My eyes snap to his again, my wrists up. Before I have the chance to do anything, he slips his fingers around the purple stone and vanishes.
“Galen!” I shout, my throat hoarse and dry. Blood runs down my chin. “Gale?—”
“There you are.” Jarek and Alaric rush my sides. “What happened?” He tilts my head back to inspect my nose.
“Galen was here.” I wipe the blood from my face using the back of my arm.
Jarek curses, placing his ax back in its holster. “Let’s go.”
I follow him through the burnt forest. My stomach reeling, thoughts spiraling. Galen was right there, and I let him slip away.
A sharp pain spreads throughout my chest as Jarek and I begin to crest the hill. Clutching my heart, I wait for the familiar darkness to seep in.
Just a panic attack.
But as I rub circles over my chest, the pain doesn’t ease. Instead, it travels to my side. Then my head and before I know it, I’m on my back.
“Elora!” Jarek joins my side and cups my head, angling me onto his lap.
Words swim on my tongue, but the pain is too blinding to form any of them. My knuckles whiten around Jarek’s forearms. The sting on the back of my neck, pulsing, growing sharper by the second.
It’s almost time.